My escape isn't permanent
to my safe-haven,
to my fantasy world.
Where there are open
hills to wonder,
kingdoms to explore,
and wars to fight.
I am a fly on the wall.
Never seen,
nor heard,
nor even thought of.
Between the pages of paper,
lives will be lived
and lives will be lost.
In the real world,
pages can change people.
Pages can make them hurt,
or laugh
or cry so much it aches.
No,
my escape isn't permanent,
but
it reminds me to live.
YOU ARE READING
Tea Time Poetry
PoesíaPoems that I publish when I feel poetic like that. These poems are best served with tea and an open mind.
